


Throw Back

by monotonehell



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monotonehell/pseuds/monotonehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Stevens' son is gay. He hasn't dealt with it well so far, but he's trying. Everyone is a product of their past, and Adam's past holds events which he realises he doesn't want repeated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the company we keep

> possible trigger warnings: mild implied & actual parental physical and mental abuse

It’s Father’s Day. But it’s also Fathers’ Day.  


The Adams-Fosters extended family has more mothers and fathers than most. But not all under one roof, normally. No one is quite sure how the idea started, but somehow it ended up as a party, with all the fathers invited – biological, adopted or otherwise.

Adam Stevens was a unsure about coming. In the few weeks since he’d allowed his son to see Jude, he’d started to warm to the boy. He’d realised that Jude wasn’t the problem – he was. With his wife gone, who knew where, it was just going to be Connor and him on Father’s Day. Jude had jokingly told him that he had no choice - he and Connor were required for Fathers’ Day. Somehow Adam allowed himself to be swayed by the argument.

So now Adam found himself in the Adams-Fosters’ kitchen overlooking the backyard. Through the window he watched the two boys interact. He’d seen how their eyes lit and smiles formed on their faces as they met. Now how they sat close together, talking, just enjoying each other’s company. It wasn’t wrong or sinful. Just things that made them happy to be together. Simple things that made his son happy. Something Connor hadn’t been in a long time.

Regret.

A tear came to Adam’s eye, as an old memory resurfaced.

“Sorry, Connor, where ever you are…” Adam said to himself.

* * *

“Connor Stevens! Get your sorry butt down here!” the shout came from downstairs.

“Yes, Sir!” Connor called as he descended the stairs from his bedroom.

The fifteen year old boy halted in front of his father in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, and searched his father’s face for the man’s current mood. It read as angry.

“Did I or did I not forbid you to associate with _that_ boy?” the man demanded in a calm but unmistakeably menacing tone.

“But, Scott’s _my_ friend, Dad,” Connor attempted.

“Being friends with that boy will do you no good. He’s not right in the head and a bad influence. He’s just not worth knowing, son. You’ll lose your real friends, you’ll be an outcast at school. Believe you me, you do not want that,” the man continued.

Connor winced at being told what he wanted. He opened his mouth in an attempted reply but his father hadn’t finished.

“I don’t want to hear any more about it. From now on if you even say hello in passing to that boy, your butt will get a hiding. Go finish your homework,” he bellowed as he pointed upstairs. 

As far as the man was concerned the conversation was over, he walked away toward the den, turned on the faux-wood-panelled television and sat as he waited for the picture to slowly fade into view.

As he ascended the stairs Connor eyed his little brother watching from behind a partly opened door.

“Mind your business, dweeb,” Connor said half angrily, “It’ll be okay,” he added as he threw a brotherly smile into the closing doorway and continued to his own room.

* * *

The next day Connor was sorting through his books in his school locker when Mark, the shortstop from his baseball team interrupted, “Hey Stevens, are you coming over after Saturday practice? Some of the guys from the team are coming to my house to watch the Space Shuttle launch.”

“Sure. Hey, can Scott come too? He’s into that space stuff,” Connor asked hesitantly.

Mark thought for a second before responding, “Uh, Dad said it’s meant to be a team thing only… but it’s not official or nothing, I guess he can. Well see ya then.”

“Cool, see you tomorrow,” Connor said as he closed his locker and headed off to lunch.

* * *

The usual cacophony of lunchtime high schoolers greeted him when he walked through the door. He joined the queue to pay his respects to the hair-netted ones, in hopes they would provide him sustenance that was at least palatable. 

He slid his tray along the counter to be greeted with, “Salisbury Steak or Salisbury Steak, there is no alternative already, so don’t ask.”

He took the proffered plate and said his thank-yous before grabbing a drink and moving on.

“Never any choice,” he said to himself.

Connor spotted Scott sitting by himself on a bench to one side of the dining hall, never one to sit with any of the cliques, something of a loner. Connor preferred to think of Scott more as a lone wolf than a loser. As he approached he realised that Scott had his eyes closed, the ever present Walkman headphones clamped over his ears, mouth ever so slightly mouthing the words of the music to which he was listening.

Connor stood and watched a moment, before Scott sensed a presence and opened his eyes, at first tensing a little in self defence, but then relaxing when he recognised the tame jock hovering over him holding a tray.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” Scott teased.

“Don’t own a camera,” Connor retorted.

“Well you’re screwed then,” Scott said before adding, “s'down a-hole.”

“What are you listening to?” Connor asked, pointing at the headphones.

“Talking Heads, Speaking In Tongues,” Scott said, immediately slipping the headphones off his own ears, scooting himself close to Connor and sliding the headphones over Connor’s head.

A strange nasally, man’s voice was singing something Connor couldn’t at first understand over a weird beat. The chorus soon started with, “I’ve got a girlfriend who's better than that…” and some weird screeching noises. It wasn’t the normal rock stuff he and his team mates listened to, but it made him smile and wiggle his head slightly to the rhythm.

Or maybe it was Scott’s closeness that was making him smile.

The song faded so he handed the headphones back to Scott. He eyed the reconstituted meat on the tray next to him with suspicion. He thought better of it and grabbed the milk instead, hunger would win eventually and he’d have to face it, but not yet.

“You wana come watch me practice tomorrow?” Connor asked.

“That’s like in the extreme A.M. isn’t it? Pass,” Scott replied.

“Well not watch the entire practice, I mean, that would be … weird,” Connor continued, ”I mean just catch the end ‘cos you and me are invited to Mark’s after to see the Shuttle Launch. His dad has a big TV, like 22 inches I think.”

“It would beat watching it on my black and white… but those guys don’t really like me much?” Scott speculated.

“They just don’t know you, 'cos you don’t play any sports. They’re okay guys,” Connor said, “Besides, Mark invited you,” Connor stretched the truth a little.

This puzzled Scott, as Mark was barely on saying 'hi’ terms with him. But Connor would be there, and so would the Space Shuttle launch in colour, so he agreed, despite the early rise.

This brought a smile to Connor’s face. Connor’s smile was short lived, however, as he thoughtlessly put some of the Salisbury Steak in his mouth.

* * *

When Connor arrived home, his little brother was playing Atari on the TV in the den. Connor sat beside his eleven year old brother and grabbed the second joystick. The younger sibling smiled and flicked the two player and reset switches.

“Got ya!” Connor teased as he soon destroyed the other tank on screen. Eliciting a playful punch to the arm from the younger boy.

“Ow, Don’t be a sore loser, Adam,” Connor said.

“If I beat you up, you’ll be the sore winner,” Adam replied.

“You and whose army, dweeb?”

“I can take you!” the clearly smaller and scrawnier boy claimed, before destroying his brother’s tank on screen, “HA! Read it and weep, loser,” he was practically daring physical retaliation.

“Right that does it!” Connor shouted before wrestling his brother to the ground and pinning him on his back. “Give up?” he asked the giggling boy.

“Connor! Get off your brother!” shouted their father as he appeared suddenly in the doorway.

“We were just playing, dad. He wasn’t hurting me,” Adam said weakly.

“Go to your room, Adam, I need to _talk_ to your brother.”

Adam did as he was told, after throwing a guilty sorry look to his older brother.

“It’s not your fault,” Connor whispered after him.

“Damn right it’s not,” their father rounded on Connor as Adam mounted the stairs, “I don’t want you touching your brother like that. It’s not manly. You’re teaching him bad things.”

“What the hell does that mean, Dad?” Connor said angrily.

The only response was a backhanded slap across the face and a, “get out of my sight!”

* * *

“Jesus, Stevens how did you get that bruise?” was the first thing he heard the next morning when he arrived at practice.

“My brother beat me up,” Connor tried to joke.

“Your brother’s eleven, a-hole,” one of the other players remarked. 

“Drop it, alright?” Connor flatly asked, the other boys instantly realised what had happened with Connor and fell silent, it wasn’t the first time.

It was off season so practice was just for maintaining general fitness and skills, and was soon over. Connor didn’t notice when, but at some point Scott had arrived and was now sitting on the worn wooden bleachers that surrounded the practice field. Eyes closed with his ubiquitous headphones on, listening to some cool underground music that Connor probably had never heard of, wearing just a simple grey sweatshirt, a blue hoodie and light blue denims. But Connor thought Scott was the coolest kid he knew.

“Heads up, Stevens!” Connor’s attention was torn from Scott in just enough time to duck a ball coming at him. Connor’s face went beet-red as his team mates laughed.

* * *


	2. says who we are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written around 12 months ago. The Fosters turned the plot away from #Jonnor which left this fic somewhat in limbo. After a lot of procrastination, I finally decided to post it.

Adam and Connor were once again guests at the Adams Foster’s household. This time, being summer, for an informal barbecue lunch. This was becoming a regular thing. Adam was worried that they were starting to outstay their welcome, but he was also convinced that socialising with this family was breaking down his prejudices. Prejudices that until recently he had convinced himself he didn’t have.

He was here for his son. It helped that Stef and Lena had made it very clear that Connor and he were always welcome. It also got him out of the house. It was just him and Connor now.

Jude’s father, Donald, had opened Adam’s eyes a little on father’s day. Like Lena had in the hospital the day after Connor had been shot.

The thing that pained him the most was that he had inherited all this prejudice from his own father. Even though he knew it to be wrong, it was still with him, influencing his actions. He had convinced himself that he was protecting Connor from people like his father. Little by little, he saw how he had been hurting Connor. Not by intent, but by action.

Adam volunteered to help Lena in the kitchen. He had offered to help Steph with the barbecue out in the yard, but she wouldn’t let anyone near it - declaring that she was, “womaning the grill.”

Jude and Connor, always the helpful sort, had pestered Lena for jobs until she ran out of things for them to do. Eventually she told them to, “take the rest of the morning off and have some fun together.”

Jude and Connor looked at each other, said nothing, nodded in agreement and headed directly inside. Gears started to work in Lena's mind and she was about to say, “I didn't mean...” before she thought better of it.

Jude and Connor slipped ninja-like past Adam who was busy washing dishes. They headed into the front room and Connor turned an armchair toward the television, while Jude switched on the console and selected a game.

Jude turned away from the console to see Connor sitting on the armchair they normally shared, beaming with playful spite because he was taking up the whole chair, legs wide apart in an exaggerated manspread.

Jude handed him a controller, grabbed a cushion, stared Connor right in the eyes with his sass stare of death and dropped the cushion between Connor's feet. He then smiled sweetly, but sarcastically, and plonked himself on the cushion right between Connor's legs. Connor was not at all upset about the situation.

The game, their current favourite, was turn based. Connor went first. While concentrating on the game he gently squeezed Jude between his legs. Jude responded by looping an arm around Connor's right leg and resting his head on Connor's thigh.

Jude’s turn came but he refused to untangle himself from his boyfriend. Instead he played with an arm either side of Connor’s leg, his hands met underneath at the controller as his thumbs flicked at the controls.

Connor decided that this was not handicap enough and started gently running his fingers through Jude’s hair. Jude laughed a little at the ministrations, but played on, beating Connor’s previous effort.

Connor’s turn again. Jude decided that he would also play dirty. He leant back against the armchair and rested his head right onto Connor’s lap.

Connor was determined not to crack but Jude tilted his head right back and smiled mischievously up at Connor.

Connor cracked. Laughing broke his concentration and he lost the round. Both boys laughed and Adam walked in to see what was so amusing. When the boys realised they sprung apart and suddenly looked very sheepish.

Adam frowned, “Don't do that. You make me feel like a monster when you pull away from each other when I walk in,” Adam said, “You guys aren’t doing anything wrong.”

Jude and Connor exchanged confused looks and returned to their game.

Adam walked back into the kitchen, reassuring himself all he had to do was the opposite of what his father would have done.

* * *

After practice the players changed their uniforms for their civilian clothes. Scott elected to stay on the bleachers while the others changed. Those who wanted to watch the space shuttle launch then made their way on foot the block and a half to Mark’s house. A loose group of seven, they chatted and laughed as they walked.

Connor and Scott tried to share Scott’s headphones along the way. That didn’t work so Scott ended up putting the headphones on Connor and blasting him with music at high volume. After a while Connor was singing loudly and out of tune, with Scott in tow holding the walkman.

“Psycho killer! Kiss chasey!” Connor loudly sung off key causing the other boys to laugh.

A few minutes later they were at Mark's house arranging themselves across a couple of divans around the large screen television - large screen by 1983 standards. Which had been wheeled out into the recreation room.

Mark’s younger brother and his friends walked into the room, one of who was Connor’s brother. Adam smiled at the chance to show off with the big boys in front of his friends. He walked over to where his brother was seated.

Connor laughed and asked, “Dweeb what are you doing here?”

Adam winced a little at the nickname, this wasn’t going as planned, but decided that playing it cool was the best move, “I was invited.”

Scott still stood, unsure of the pecking order on seating, but now there were no actual spots left on the divans so he opted to sit on the floor, with his back against the divan. He sat to one side of Connor, right up against Connor’s leg.

Adam half suppressed a puzzled look. He had not met Scott before so had no idea who this boy who seemed very comfortably close to his brother was.

“Hey,” Scott greeted Adam.

“This is my little brother, you can call him Dweeb,” Connor joked to Scott.

“Yeah, I know that can’t be your real name,” Scott smiled at the younger boy, he indicated Connor “I usually call him a-hole.”

Adam giggled at his new ally.

“So what do I call you?” Scott asked.

“I’m Adam.”

Scott, always the gentleman, glanced up at Connor and waited to be introduced.

“This… this is Scott,” Connor finally said after a guilty pause.

The smile washed from Adam’s face, replaced with concern.

“I gotta go back to my friends,” Adam said before he walked back to where the younger boys had sat on the floor.

Scott shot a curious look up to Connor, “What was that about?” he asked.

“He’s just weird, is all,” Connor lied.

“There’s something you’re not saying,” Scott searched Connor’s eyes, “You can tell me-”

“What the hell is this?” Mark’s father had walked into the room, taken one look at Scott pressed against Connor’s leg looking into each other eyes and leapt to conclusions.

Angrily now, voice raised, “You’re that Mathew’s boy, aren’t you? Your sort isn’t welcome here, get out before I throw you out!” and then turning on Connor, “You can get out as well, your father will be hearing about this!”


End file.
